Leads to a Love
by Silk Spectre
Summary: after "Starts with a handshake" Rorschach doesn't die, but has his intrinsic field removed, and after a very long time comes back as a Jon-like entity. His life, post Karnak. Slash, Ror/Daniel. UPDATES SLOW.
1. Shit

In the April of 1986, a circulatory would have been seen for a few brief moments, had anyone been around to see it. The next month later, a misshapen skeleton, with some muscle tissue, screamed in agony for for a few minutes before vanishing. It was mid may when a blue being rose, naked and blue, above a partially set table, abandoned by Adrian Veidt after the adventures 8 months prior. Static electricity ran between the metal implements, and it is perhaps good that no one was around to watch the miraculous scene fall from grace.

The being fell from the air, starting to scream, clutching his head.

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck SHIT Damn FUCK!"

The images in front of Walters eyes made no sense. The Tachyons were so confusing, bearing him back and forth on tides of time.

Pushing Moloch into a fridge.

Tasting cold beans, metal harsh on teeth, 'face' half up. "Want me to heat those up for you?"

Mother screeching "I shoulda listen to everybody _else_! I shoulda had the _abortion_!"

Cleaver in hand. Killing dogs.

16, staring in horror at Bras and Panties.

Daniel.

Sleeping with Daniel. Showering with Daniel.

Breaking fingers.

Daniel.

Veidt, lying to world.

Daniel.

Manhattan, 'killing' me.

Daniel.

"**RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWLLLLLLLLLLLL**"

Machines across the fortress crumple in on themselves. Tachyons ceasing to be generated.

Walter Kovacs looks at his hands, his blue, slightly glowing hands.

"Shit."


	2. Waiting

It's been six months. I should be over him.I should be over all of it. Laurie's over Jon. Why can't I get past.... him. Laurie and I are married now. and what with Veidt 'suggesting' the Keene act be abolished, vigilantism is ripe. I'm Nite Owl again. Rorschach would be proud. If I hadn't let him die. I should have stopped him. I should have told him I loved him. I should have gone out there, and screamed at Jon the way Laurie screamed at Adrian.

God, the _guilt_. Laurie says I should see a psychiatrist, but I know that would just make things worse. The Media would _love_ to find out all my dirty little secrets. That that father of the super hero family was gay, and still feels guilt about letting an old lover die. Besides, I'd have to explain the Karnak thing, and then Veidt would kill me.

I've grown up a lot in the past six months, just like Adrian advised me to. Though I have yet to give up my 'obvious' heroism. I'll never do that. It's part of who I am. The only one who understands me these days is Rory. A cute kid. Five years old, brown hair, freckles. A survivor. He nightmares a lot, but that's okay. I found him at Walter's apartment.

I don't know why I went there, why I went back, in the dead of night, telling Laurie I was going to go for a solo round. It was mid-January, vigilantism had been legal for not even a week yet. I just had to go, see if there was something...anything of him left. Some personal affects other than the scraps soaked with blood found in the snow.I pried up the floorboards, but there was nothing there, He'd cleared it out. The room was still a mess, but rats had picked clean all the organic debris. I sat on the moldy, moth eaten mattress and let myself cry.

That was how Rory found me, bawling in my owl suit, on Walter's bed. His name was Simon then. He decided to go by Rorry. Such a childish thing, to just pick a new name because the other one gives you bad memories. Not that I, as 'Sam', can say much. Laurie wasn't pleased when Simon said he'd go by Rory, in fact she glared at me. I don't care. I love her in a remote way, I can lay with her though it makes me sad, but it's not enough to make me truly, fully, care.

I'm happy she's used to it. Jon was more distant than I am, though she's accused me of not being far off at all. Ha. I wish I were as emotionless as that monster. Then I'd be able to not feel as much pain. Then I wouldn't cry in my sleep. Laurie thinks it's post-traumatic stress, from the blast, from all the death. She doesn't realize it's more specific. That I feel responsible. That I failed.

Gods I miss him. I can neither stand to be in Archie nor stand to be away from it. Even though the flame thrower's been twitchy ever since the arctic, I can't stand to change it, at all. So many memories. Gods, I shouldn't think about it, it feels good now, but it always ends in depression. Always. There's no grave. There's no marker. There's _nothing_ to show that he made his mark. Maybe a few fractured fingers that have long since healed. Maybe a scar on my heart. But physical, tangible evidence that he ever existed? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Gods, it's terrible. Terrible.

Veidt knows. I don't know how he figured it out. I don't know how he just _knew_ that Rorschach and I had something special, but that morning, after waking up with arms around me and almost whimpering in disappointment when I realized who they belonged too, Adrian and I had a talk. I'd gotten dressed, of course, back into the suit, and was wandering around. I had to know what all this equipment was. I had to keep my mind busy. I didn't even hear Adrian as he approached, startling me when he spoke, a few feet away.

"You loved him. I'm sorry."

I was stunned, but refuse to show it, feeling tears rise in the back of my throat.

"Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. Why are you doing this to yourself? You're a wonderful man, forcing yourself into a mold that doesn't fit. The Greeks supported homosexuality, you know." He smiles, and I feel greasy. My insides slithered about as he continued, with that damnable smile. "If you don't like the woman, then don't like her. You shouldn't force yourself." He took a step closer, " It's not healthy."

I was tired and sad, but not stupid. I knew what he was saying. I wasn't interested, turning back to the weaponry. He watched me for a long while, abruptly gave me a chaste kiss on the forehead. Like a parent. I glared up at him, nonplussed.

"You really do have so much to learn, Daniel. I'll wait for you to grow up."

I wonder. When I 'grow up', will I be glad he's waited?


	3. Revenge

Blue hands. Blue arms. Blue chest. Blue legs. Blue feet. Grab spoon from table, dust sticks to skin and vaporizes. Look in back of spoon. Blue face. Blue face. No hair. Look like Manhattan, different jaw. No. Should be more alarmed by this. Should not be so calm. Am more frantic of loss of frantic feeling than sudden _life_, body, etc. Should be dead. Should be very, very dead. Not....alive. And blue.

Don't like blue. Recall incident, Manhattan changed color darker, so as not to give self away. Stare at hands hard, lightening their hue. Play with it for long time. Eventually get general skin tone. This needs less distractions, bigger mirror. Walk through wall, to outside. Just walk across ocean of white, blue reflecting off snow. Not melting it. Hurm. Am sure could if wanted to. Walk until can no longer see Karnak. Use thought and force of will to erect sheets of ice, making rough cube, isolation center. Reflections stretching to infinity with special ice, polished with mind. Not cold unless I wish to be. Interesting. Revive old, frozen corpse of butterfly, surrounding it with heat and watching it fly. Bright colors. Hope. Let it fly away.

Lose track of time in cube, learning coloring, shaping, making self human. Also learn how to deconstruct, build, 'teleport'. Learn almost every trick that saw Jon do, and some extra. Proud when conquering different form. Little girl, blond bouncy curls, sweet smile. Hope Blaire Roche is useful, when Walter Kovacs cannot be seen. She is small, and innocent. Hard to maintain though. Changing color not as easy as Manhattan made it appear. Manhattan smarter than me. Then again, Manhattan not ambitious.

Manhattan never tried shape shifting. Just growth, and color. Manhattan never maintained red hair, shifting mask, or features of broken nose, freckles. Manhattan lazy. Ha. Must find clothes now. Could of course make some for self out of sheer will, but again, the effort of maintenance make endeavor not worth while. Break out of cube, stretching limbs forced into capability of stiffness, Walter's joints. Enjoy the feeling. Know that vulnerability is just illusion. Head back to Karnak, smiling at the lines in the sky. Veidt has come and gone. Surely doesn't know of me, and blames Jon for tachyon removal.

Find Veidt's room with ease. Constant sense of Deja Vu. Know can glimpse future, past, simultaneously. Try not to. Not after incident with tachyons. Veidts room very....gay. Silky. Rich. Distasteful display of decadence. Still dislike alliteration. Smells good though. Like Daniel. No. Like Nostalgia. Danial has own personal scent. Nostalgia and leather and feathers. Feathers? Must rethink. Hurm. No. Room does smell like Daniel. Did Daniel come in here shortly after my death? Why would Daniel come to this room?

Oh. Of course. Makes perfect sense.

Daniel must have snapped at Veidt, following him here at one point, yelling in indignant anger for my execution. Thought makes me smile. Have missed Daniel. Really must go see him. First should visit Veidt though. Get revenge. Recall.... promise to self. Hurt Veidt for scaring my Daniel. But must find clothing before revenge. Can't kill Veidt while naked. Slur on reputation. Open closet manually, assaulted by mothball scent and flamboyant purple. Gay.

Much searching before finding pinstripes. Don them happily. Good to wear pants. Silk boxers feel odd, but only option. Wish for leather gloves, fedora, coat. No place to be picky. Have old friend to visit. Make my face a swirling perfection and will myself to Veidt's offices, where he is when I find him, which I know because I can see it, 'remember' an incident that has yet to happen. He is washing his face, in front of a mirror, paling at my reflection, gasping to scream as I grab him and will myself back to Karnak. Chuckling.

Scream echoes through empty halls. "You...You're Dead! He killed you! I KNOW he did! I saw the blood, I saw! I...No. No...I'm tired, this is a dream, Daniel was talking, this is all..."

"Hurm. Think a dream. Must make nightmare." First punch to stomach. Veidt coughs, falls to knees. Give kick to face. "Scared my Daniel. Must pay for that. Lied to world, killed half new york. Don't think forgot."

"That...that was five years ago! You're DEAD. LONG DEAD." Hoist to feet, punch in jaw. Spits out teeth.

Five years? That long? Oh dear. "Five years, exactly?"

He nods, and starts murmuring. Can hear what he says. "Wake up now, Adrian. Wake up. Come on, this is a dream; it makes no logical sense. This is just an anniversary nightmare. Had them before, right chap? Just wake up, and you'll be fine."

Laugh. Hard. "Show logical sense in giant squid attacking New York, Adrian. Millions of New Yorkers never woke up. Some 'dream'. Very American."

He splutters, trying to explain.

Grab hold again, and end things.


	4. Maturity

Yada yada I own nothing. Thanks to Vaudeville.

* * *

One year. It's been a full year. I'll be okay. Things are going to be fine. I'll make it through this. Rory's enough of a distraction, and I'm determined to be a good husband to Laurie. She deserves it.

One and a half years. Sally died, Laurie's taken it hard. I have too. Things will be okay though. It's going to be Rory's birthday soon. I've already made him a grappling gun, but Laurie says that I'll have to save it for when he's older. She's been accusing me of molding him into a new Rorschach. That's a lie. I won't let anyone be Rorschach. There's a new Silhouette (and her partner, "The Nurse") , a new Comedian, a Mothman. But no Rorschachs. Every time (and it's been fourteen times, already) some punk tries to just put on His mask and try to pretend to see through His eyes, I go beat them up, take their mask away, and tell them to find a new ID.

A lot of them have chosen to make up a completely new hero. Now there's "The Ninja", a guy from Connecticut with decent martial arts who specializes in Asian dissent and Chinatowns, and there's "Hat Man" someone a lot like Rorschach but far less direct and right wing. He wears a white mask and black clothes, and a bowler hat. He's an odd fellow. He's the type to cut someones car in half and 'fix it' for a parking violation, and such. I'm not sure what to make of him.

Two Years. My life is a good one. Laurie invited Adrian over for dinner last week. It was a good night, all things considered. We reminisced about old, old times. Karnac got glossed over like a big ugly elephant in the room. I had a few too many beers, after Laurie excused herself to let us 'guys talk about men stuff'. I woke up the next morning with a big headache and Laurie's arms around me. Only found out yesterday that Rory got up for a glass of water and saw Adrian and I 'smashing faces'.

That's what Rory's decided to call making out. I don't want to think about it. I wouldn't mention it, clearly just an accidental, drunken act, but I got a letter from Adrian last night. "_Done a lot of growing up, Daniel. Almost ready_." I don't know what to make of it. Ready for what? I wish Walter were here. Things would be so much more simple, in comparison to him.

Two and a half years. It's almost Rory's birthday again. Laurie says he's still too young for the grappling gun, but I know damn well that he wants it. I'm taking him on my rounds with me, once he's seven. Not too young, in my mind, since he's so eager. We're only frustrating him by holding him back. Adrian's been over a lot lately, Rory doesn't seem to like him much. Of course, he doesn't know that the man saved the world. Archie's flame thrower is still on the fritz, but I refuse to do anything to it. Too much sentimental value. It's bad enough that Sweet Chariot went out of business. I buy granulated sugar now. And Coke in green glass bottles for when I'm feeling like a good cry.

Screaming is coming up from downstairs. Shit shit shit shit!

Three years. Laurie died in my arms six months ago, crying for Jon and cursing me for being useless. The was funeral small, and filled with super heros. That's all Laurie ever knew; god damned Super Heros. Adrian took over the eulogy when I started sobbing. I feel horrible for Rory, he's lost two mothers now. And it's all my fault. It's all my stupid, stupid fault. She was in the owl nest, and... and... Oh gods, it's terrible. What a way to go. Not a stray bullet in the line of fire, not that bullets of the normal variety could pierce her now enforced leather armor...

She burned. Archimedes belched fire when she was in front of him. Third degree burns everywhere, she didn't even look like Laurie. Oh Gods, the memories, I can't stand them. I've been drinking a lot lately. I know it's bad, it's harder on Rory. But right now, with Walter gone for three years, and Laurie gone six months, and the truth about New York and Adrian eating me up inside, I can't help it. Sure, Rorschach's Journal got published, but no one believes a word of it. Ah, speak of the devil, Adrian is here now, looking all worried. He's got pizza and a six pack. God bless.

Three and a half years. Adrian is a permanent fixture in my life now, and he's been so helpful, especially with Rory. Rory's come to like him, calls him papa every now and again. For a vegetarian, Adrian is a good cook, and that's something Rory and I really needed. He's stopped me from drinking, and made sure the paunch of justice stays at bay. We spar every day, as a family. Er. That sounds wrong. Not a family. Our family is broken, with Laurie gone. Adrian will never replace her. He's just helping out as best as he can. I still don't know why, but I'm not going to complain. He's a good friend. A very good friend.

He's giving Rory a lot of stuff for his birthday, and helping me put together a personalized scooter for the kid. He's chomping at the bit to actually go out and do some crime fighting, he's sick of just watching, he wants to patrol on his own, not just sit in the ship. He's so independent, and he's grown up so fast. He makes me feel old. 8 already, and acting the way I did when I was twelve. I guess loss matures people. That's what Adrian has said, a few times now. I don't understand him, his motivation. Oh well. I don't have to. I can just appreciate it, and hope that I never have to repay the emotional debt.

Four years. Rory and I have been working on his suit. It's a lot like mine, but black and gold. He's decided he wants to be "Nite Hawk". I like it. He'll be patrolling with supervision come his tenth birthday, and he's so very ready and eager. It makes me happy, to see that there's hope in this profession. And there's enough harmless enemies, too. "Moloch" is a name being fought over by petty criminals seeking flair, and so many perverted twerps similar to Captain Carnage have sprung up. Adrian says they will last.

Adrian has been thinking alone a lot, I hope he's okay. He keeps looking at me thoughtfully, I wish I knew how his mind worked. Oh well. He's too smart for that, I guess, for me to pry into his thoughts. Though when I see the way he's been looking at me, sometimes I get the strangest sense of deja vu. I can't put my finger on it. It's a little disconcerting, but I'll live. He's made my life so much better lately, I'm so glad I can manage to be happy after everything that's happened.

Four and a half years. Adrian is going to take me traveling! He won't tell me where we're going, but I've got the Silhouette and her lover able to baby sit Rory, we should be gone for a few months at most. The Guardians (this third generation of crime fighters, after 'the minute men' and 'crime busters') will miss us, but we'll be back. This is going to be great, it will take my mind off of everything. He's so good at that, at getting me to think of all the positives, to look forwards for the future. It's all so bright.

Rory's nearly nine, and I've given him an early birthday present since I don't think I'll be here for the actual day. Keys to Archie. He's promised his head off not to do anything reckless, and I've made sure he knows damn well what every button does. The controls really are quite basic. I have confidence in him, and trust him. He still can't patrol, but he can be the transport, the getaway man. It's a big responsibility. I'm sure he'll make me proud.

Five years. Shit. I... I can't believe this. I slept with Adrian. In Karnac. I slept with Adrian. I...I feel so dirty and violated. But...it was so romantic. And perfect. And....and....I need another beer. No. Fuck that. Whiskey. There's whiskey around here somewhere. Rory's worried about me, I haven't talked to him since I came home last night, finally back from the trip. It was wonderful, but the last stop was the antarctic. He hadn't been there since that time, five years ago, and it all brought back such memories. I...I cried, and blurted out everything about me and Walter, and.... god dammit he took advantage of me! He 'comforted' me! That... that BASTARD.... I gulp down a shot of whiskey, tears starting down my cheeks. I hear the lock on the door lock break, like old times. Ha. Haha. Just like Rorschach. Hope it's not robbers. Rory will kick their asses.

Another shot, blurry vision. Rorschach, pinstripes and shifting face, waltzes into my kitchen, starts rumaging through my cupboards, 'hurming'. I look at the bottle. "Damn good shtuph."


	5. Replay

I own nothing, everything belongs to Allen Moore.

* * *

Done with Adrian, chuckling. Look forward to seeing him again. but am in no real rush. Time to see Daniel. Must remember to apologize. Didn't mean to be gone for so long. Also, must keep temper in check if he's still with hussy. Made bet, after all, and Daniel rather weak. Will self to alley near his home, use cover of darkness well. Am at his door in moments. Consider knocking. No, Daniel won't know it's me, if I knock. Phase through door, breaking lock on way. Trademark. Head to Daniel's kitchen. Haven't eaten in five years.

Whiskey. Smell hurts nose. Daniel, drinking. Barely looks at me before returning to bottle. Slurs his words. "Good Shtuph." No sign of whore. This isn't right. Busy self with cupboards. Hurm. This is wrong. Daniel drinking. Daniel drunk. Bad. Crying, too. My fault? Hurm. Close cupboards. Go to sugar jar. No cubes. Also wrong. Daniel always has sugar cubes.

Things have changed. Don't like feeling in pit of stomach. Run hand through bag of sugar, making it into cubes. Take one, pop into mouth. Ronch ronch ronch. Daniel's tears run faster. Look him over. Has lost weight. Gained muscle. Looks like Nite Owl of pre-Keene act. Five years in future? More like five in the past. Reach out, giving him a shock by accident, touching his cheek, the water. "Daniel, no tears. Weak. What's wrong? Not like you."

He starts blubbering. Wonders if I'm here to kill him. Calls self a whore. Tears off a wedding ring,throws it. Married Miss Juspczyk? Ouch. Pain in chest. Must get over. Doesn't matter. Told him to, almost. Glad he's not lonely. Child wanders in. Theirs? No. Too old. Closer inspection, is from old apartment. Interesting. Shift mask into face, revealing Walter. Child stares, confused, then turns to Daniel.

"Dad, is Mr Kovacs bothering you?"

Daniel collapses into sobs on the table, accusations of me being not real. Soon quiets into snores. Very drunk Daniel. Child pushes his arm. "Sam...l -- oh _eff_ it..._DAN_, wake up! Come on, let me get you to bed! Dad! Come _on_." He sighs, leans against the counter. Must be around ten years old by now. He looks up at me.

"Could ya move him for me? He should be in bed. He hasn't been this drunk since Mom died."

Nod, lifting Daniel easily. Let boy go ahead, showing me to Daniel's room, as if I don't know where he sleeps, like I never watched him toss and turn back when we were partners. 'Mom' dead? Juspczyk or Simon's mother? Believe Simon to be his name. Could be wrong. Tuck Daniel in. Give careful kiss to his forehead. Simon looks on, confused.

"I thought only papa did that. Huh.... aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Look dead to you?"Who is this 'papa' figure? Must find out, soon.

"Well no, you seem 'live enough ta me. How 'bout we talk in the nest? When dad nightmares drunk he gets loud, and it's warm down there."

Nod, follow. Much still the same here, though brighter. Some new equipment. Also, three other suits. One smaller but much like Nite Owl's, black and gold. Simon's size. Silk Spectre II, very dusty. And one similar in coloring but leather, heavy, shaped like a woman. Distasteful. Looks like dominatrix outfit. Horrible. Also dusty. Juspczyk's? She must be dead, and Daniel has resumed crime fighting, with the child no less. Proud of him. Has done well in my absence.

Wander nest, happy. Many good memories. Come across cork board, newspaper clippings tacked to surface. My journal, published. Good. Hope enlightenment on handful of people. Moot, really, Veidt not a tyrant anymore. Truth will come out, surely. Hurm. "Guardians". Another unwieldy publicity stunt. Veidt abolished Keene Act. Good of him, but not enough. Do not regret his demise.

"Hurm." Turn back to child. Always had soft spot for children. Will not break boys fingers for information. Can trust him not to lie. "Nite Owl your father?"

He nods slowly. "Adopted, yes. Bio...not so much." He shrugs. I like him. Not Juspczyk's spawn.

"Been gone long time. Five years. Tell me what I need to know."

"Well first of all, a squid killed New York. That's important. Kinda a ... what's the word Dad used...a kitty-list." He must mean catalyst. Do not correct him. No need for distractions. "It was a kitty-list for the Russians to leave everyone alone, so we could all team up in case aliens attack again. I was just out of range, 'cause I was running away from home. You were right, she was a whore. My mother, I mean. I kind of knew, but, y'know, I was just a little kid. It didn't click. What she was doin' was wrong, y'know? Anyways... after the screaming settled down and all the sci-fi got out of my brain and I could stop screamin', I went back home. There was bodies everywhere. It was really sick. Bloody. Gross. Scary. Didn't like it. Hid under my bed, and just stayed there for a long time.

Dad rescued me. He was in your room, tearing it apart, lookin' for stuff. He's never told me what. I got adopted, and got a new name. I'm Rory." He grins. I allow a small smile. Daniel, such a nice man. Named 'firstborn' after me. Glowy feeling. Good to know was missed.

"And then?" Prompt.

"Oh Yeah. Well uh.... being a hero was okay again, which was really nice, 'cause being a hero should be a personal choice, an' not something all fed-regulated, right? Like, helping people should never be a _bad_ thing. So when I was big enough, I got to watch mom and dad kick butt. I wasn't allowed to help at all, but I could watch, and hold the first aid kit. I know how to get bullets out of people." Again, he grins. He's proud. He's going to be usefull, when a bit older. "And I know how to get people out of shock, and how to do stitches, and, and...." he goes solemn. "I know how to treat burns, but not good enough. That's how mom died. Fire. Nasty way to end it all."

Wince. Fire never been pleasant. Leaves bad scars, can bubble skin. Recall flame thrower taken to SWAT team man's back. Screams, the smell. Also the end of the Blaire Roche case...

"Sorry for loss. Must be hard." Have no idea if it's hard. Not really very sorry. Never liked Laurie, but those proper things to say. Etiquette not strong point, but effort means something. Also, fire bad way to end. Painful, probably. Daniel likely took death very hard. Rory mentioned him drinking after this event.

"It's cool, it was a longish time ago. I'm a big kid, I don't need a mommy. Besides, I've got Dad, and Papa, and the baby sitters. Not that I need 'em, they're just so I don't feel lonely. They're really cool, and like to play go-fish with me when they aren't mashing faces. They're both girls, so it's kind of weird. My babysitters, I mean. They're dy-...er... 'respectfully involved in same-sex activities'. Which mean's they're dykes."

Blink. Not sure what to make of that information. Not sure if approve, but shall side step for now. More important issue at hand."Dad is Daniel, upstairs...who's 'papa'?"

"Mister Adrian Veidt, of course." He smiles again. "He's so cool, he's taught me a buncha stuff! And he's got the morals of a super hero down pat, and he's so freakin' strong, an-"

Backhand the boy to shut him up, and am careful to make sure no actual damage is inflicted. Just shut him up. Saw this coming, knew it was going to happen, but that does nothing to quell anger. Rory is shocked at my outburst, touching his cheek.

"Ow..y-you asked, Sir. What's wrong? No need to hit me."

"Veidt a monster. You're lying. Lying. Daniel would never.... MY Daniel. He would never..." I'm repulsed. This is why Veidt's room smelled of Daniel. They were lovers. No, impossible. Daniel not gay. Or rather, only gay for ME.

"They didn't sleep in the same bed, or get married or nothin', mister Kovacs." He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "Dad cries about you still, at night. He thinks I don't know, that mom didn't know, but he's got issues. He and papa are good friends and all, and went travelin' but I don't think he's like... in _looooove_ with 'im or anythin'. Unless somethin' happened on the trip..."

"What trip?! To where?!" Daniel friends with man who orchestrated my murder. So STUPID. Boy cringing under my harsh tone. "Around the world, I don't know! I was with the babysitters! I don't know nothin'! Just don't hit me 'gain, please!"

Have brought child nearly to tears. Self disgust tempers rage. Mutter apologies. Pace.

"S'okay, mister Kovacs. I guess you're all stressed, what with bein' dead and all. Are you gonna stay here until Dad gets better? I don't like when he's all drunk. He yells."

Sigh, pinch bridge of nose. "Yes. Stay here. Stay with Daniel. Only person can stay with." I eye the boy for a moment, and then the clock on the wall behind him. 5:30 am. "Want bacon and eggs?"


	6. Dykes

Yada yada I own nothing.

* * *

I wake up with supreme headache, pain lancing through my skull. Just a hangover, making me think groggily. We came home from the Arctic yesterday. Veidt seduced me in Karnak. I drowned the inevitably subsequent pain and sorrow with whiskey, and then dreamed of Walter. I should have patrolled last night, but what if I ran into Ozzy? This is all so complicated. I just wish I had my Walter back. Hell, I wish I still had Laurie. I need someone I can turn to and depend on, that isn't Adrian. I see now, that he's cut me off from everyone else. I'm alone. so very, very alone.

Do I smell bacon? Rory doesn't cook, ever, he'd rather starve to death. Oh no. Adrian must be over. Dammit. I feel so awkward now. Better I get up and talk to him in my kitchen though, in front of Rory, where decency demands he not do anything, than have him come to my room to wake me up though. I've got no intentions of being date-raped again. That's what it was. I said 'no', I think. We'd had some wine. I don't remember. Dammit. No more tears. Last night, in my dreams, Walter told me that tears are weak.

So there's no time for crying. Just get dressed, and go down stairs. Simple enough, easy as pie. Just go down stairs, eat some breakfast, tell Veidt that he's no longer welcome in my home. But what about Rory? Veidt was helping with the home schooling, and he's so much smarter than I am... No, I must be firm. He's being abusive, in a psychological and emotional way, and I can't stand for it any longer. This sexual thing has to end, it shouldn't have began, it doesn't feel right.

I take a deep breath and descend the stairs. Rory's chattering about his grappling gun, and how he has keys to Archie now, and his happy voice brings a smile to my lips, what I can hear over the sizzle of bacon. I keep my eyes on the floor, not daring to look up at Adrian by the stove, grabbing a piece of bacon off of Rory's plate.

I drop the piece when my hand is slapped and I look up in shock at Walter's face, his red hair, his freckles, and his broken nose. I feel faint.

"Rude. Also, Jewish. No pig for you." He's smiling. He's alive, and smiling, and I'm clearly still asleep and dreaming. I love these dreams. This is one with KIND!Walter. He's made breakfast, and is teasing me lightly about my religon. Rory is familiar with everything without having to ask. It's nice. He's now piling more bacon onto Rory's plate, and leaves a covered plate of eggs for me to enjoy later, taking me by the arm.

Wait, that's not right. If this is a dream, he take me by the hand. The way he's got me right now, his fingers are digging into my bicep. Also, if this is my dream, I should be eating _now_ rather than needing a covered plate. Also, his voice is different. This... this isn't a dream. I'm .... this is impossible.

"Eat, Rory. Need to discuss things with Daniel. Behave. Understand?"

Rory nods, and I am dragged down into the nest. This is not a dream. This is Walter. And he's angry with me.

"Cheated, Daniel. Lied. Said loved me. Realized that Veidt was insane. Married whore, slept with social prostitute? What happened?"

I look down the tunnel, the one that Rorschach walked down just over five years ago, and answer him as he answered me. "You quit."

His face falls, his anger turning into sadness. He's easier to read now for some reason. "Stupid Daniel. Should have waited."

"You were DEAD, Walter. You waltzed out of there, knowing damn well that Adrian would... er... no. Adrian didn't kill you. Jon did. Adrian didn't do anything wrong."I feel so confused.

"Veidt killed half new york! Killed Blake! Manhattan acted under Veidt's suggestion, supposed 'utopia'! Veid responsible for my death." He's adding something silently there. He's not telling me everything.

I can't hear this kind of stuff about Veidt, I lo-. Wait. No I don't. Why do I think I love Adrian? He's kind, yes, but I've never loved him.... however, I can't let Walter just butcher my friend's name, either. I choose my words carefully, not even sure why I'm putting forth the effort. "Veidt ... sacrificed part of New York to ensure world peace. Blake was a murderer, almost a rapist, the man was a bloody Nazi. And as for Jon...you can't know what Jon thought, Walter. And...and you're not dead!"

"No right, Daniel. Veidt had no right to make sacrifice. Duped, brainwashed. Seduced."

I wince at the final word, and he notices. He glares. It's then that I notice his eyes. They aren't quite right. They're changing. His eyes are going white and his face is going blue... this wasn't Walter. It was Jon the entire time. What a stupid prank. Why did he...wait. No. It _is_ Walter. The shape is...

"Walter?" I reach up to touch his blue cheek. "Is it really you? Are you really back?"

He's not smiling, but he's not stopping me from touching him, either. "From the dead, Daniel. For you. But you don't love me. Love Veidt. Loved _wife_. Got _married_. Know how Manhattan thinks, Daniel. Know very well. Know why went to Mars."

He's sulking. He's blue and he's _sad_. I have to set him straight, before he leave, doesn't allow me a second chance to explain. "I never loved Veidt. I just...let myself depend on him. He's... he **was** a stable thing in my life, someone I could count on to be _there_. You weren't. After....after she died, Laurie wasn't. I needed _somebody_."

It's true. I needed someone to care about me, a friend. Adrian took advantage of it, but that's how it started. Just a friend, someone who I knew I could tun to, to talk to.

"Hurm. Slept with Veidt."

He's not asking a question so much as stating a fact. My eyes fix on the ground, teeth catching at my bottom lip. "Only once."

"Once too often. Hurts, Daniel. Hurts bad."

"I'm sorry. I...I love you, Walter. I didn't mean for it to happen." The words I'm saying start pouring past my lips in a rush. The trip, Karnak, the tears, the wine, the 'comfort'.... I'm sure he's disgusted with me. I finish with how I woke up, Veidt still atop me, and how I hadn't spoken to the guy since. How I felt so violated, and had gotten drunk to deal with it. How I'd dreamed of my red-headed hero all night.

I feel so confused when Walter hugs me, blueness shifting back into the man that I know, that I love with all my heart, as cheezy and Devo as that sounds. I hug back, and let him kiss me all over the face. He's shocking me every once and a while, but it's not unpleasant. I recall, now, Laurie talking about making out with Jon. I understand what she meant. I wonder what sex will be like.... Laurie said Jon was amazing. Many times. Repeatedly. But he had experience, whereas Walter's rather new. I don't care, it's too soon to be thinking like that.

"Love you, big Jewish prick."

"And I love you, crazy ginger tease."

A voice from the stairs, Rory's. "D'aww....are you two dykes now?"


	7. Always

I own nothing, everything belongs to Allen Moore.

* * *

"Are you two dykes now?"

Freeze. Was not aware of audience. "Not gay." Push Daniel away firmly. Bring mask up, face suddenly swirling black and white. Flustered.

"You ain't? But you were smashing faces wi-." Will Rory's lips fused. Boy alarmed, but not harmed.

"Homosexuality slur on reputation. Can't allow slurs. So, 'not gay'. Understand?" Rory nods, eyes wide, and Daniel tries not to chuckle. Heal boys' lips. Satisfied with handiwork. "Finish eating, before eavesdropping?"

"Yes sir, Mister Kovacs. But I saved you and Dad a bunch of bacon." He is glad lips work.

"All for you. Not eating. No bacon for Daniel. Left him plate with egg."

Daniel disgruntled. "Hey, that's my choi-"

"No bacon for Daniel."

"But-."

"No. Bacon. For Daniel." Smile under mask. Am having fun with this. Have won. Rory giggles. "You two go eat. Daniel, we talk later." I need to reacquaint myself with the nest. Am left alone. Archie upgraded. Still looks as did 5 years ago. Check fridge unit. Green glass bottles. Glad Daniel cares about small details. Abandon mask, allowing face of Walter to be default. Help self to coke. Sure Daniel won't mind. Drink while wandering. Find cot, made up in secluded alcove of nest. Slept here often, pre-Keene. Collapsed several times, stealing handful of hours of sleep before taking tunnel up to outside world, and walking home. Fond memories, waking up to Daniel's scent. Daniel's woolen blanket, heavy, warm. Move heavy wool, smiling.

Smile dies. Purple silk. That bastard. Angry now. Glare sheet into flames. Pay no heed to smoke alarm siren, nor Daniel's knee jerk reaction, scared and at my shoulder. Made up, like Daniel expected company. Purple silk now black ash. Mattress and wool untouched. Slow realization dawns on Daniel's face, he climbs stool to silence shrieking siren.

Other screaming continues. Brush ash from sleeves, follow noise upstairs. Rory the source. Sounds disjointed, broken. Very loud, high pitch. Terrified child, hiding under kitchen table. Crouch to his height. "Hush."

He stops screaming. "Good boy."

He's still sniffling though. Crying? Hard to tell, bangs in eyes. Child needs haircut. "No one died this time?"

Ah. Understand now why child reacted so strongly. Laurie burned. Must have been attached. Try to look gentle. "No one died. I just...hurm. Had tantrum." Feel embarrassed to admit it.

"So ya lit a fire?"

Nod. "Blew off steam."

"Alright. Next time give me warning. I don't like the siren."

Nod.

Awkward silence. Rory goes back to plate. Small smile. "Daddy ate some bacon. Just so you know."

"Hurm. Tattle tale. Good informant. Thanks." Must remember to chastise Daniel.

He pouts. "Not a tattle tale. He's goin' ta hell for eating pig, and he knows it. Really, I'm just reporting to someone who can _do_ somethin' 'bout his....misdemeanor."

... I _like_ this child. Ruffle his hair. He grins. Daniel stands at door to nest, watching with small smile. Silence stretches. Want more time with Rory. "Show me grappling gun?"

He's eager to do so, we pass Daniel on way back into nest. I pause, looking him in the eye. "No bacon means no bacon. Shall be punished later. Also, we talk. Later. Enjoy washing dishes." Say last three words with chipper tone, kissing Daniel on cheek. Small chuckles in back of mind.

Spend day with Rory, Daniel doing domestic work. Looks at clock often, biting lip. Wonder if has appointment. Didn't mention anything. At about four in the afternoon Daniel reminds Rory that we're 'working tonight.' Child immediately nods, puts away toys, and heads to bed.

Daniel explains. "If we're patrolling, the kid needs extra sleep. You will be coming out with us tonight...right?"

Slow nod. "Rorschach has returned. Hope name not taken."

"I made sure no one took it, Walter. I beat people up for it. I do _care_, you know. I always have and always will."

"Let Veidt sleep here. More than once. Often even. Didn't tell me. Shame on you." Hurts. My Daniel is MY Daniel. Veidt tried to take him from me. Angry.

Daniel pauses. Tells full truths now. "I more or less let him live here. He was nice to Rory, and good at cooking, and it started out as just him helping because Laurie died and Rory and I were lost without her. I .... I'm sorry. I got dependent. I was weak. I..I don't know how I let it all happen. I'm sorry. I'm very sorry. What can I do?"

"Hurm. Find Veidt's things. All stuff left here. Personal affects. Give to me. Now. Search house."

"He's going to want them back, Walter, I can't jus-"

"And anything he's given you." Zero tolerance. Not like bacon. Daniel MUST comply. Seems to understand, starts searching house.

Soon brings me purple gym bag filled with miscellaneous items. "Everything?"

Daniel says yes, but voice is wrong. _Glare_. "No lies. Get everything."

Sigh from Daniel. Takes off watch, throws it in gym bag. I raise eyebrow.

"Mine broke when we were in Cairo, so he bought me a new one. No big deal."

"Cairo. Egypt."

"Yes. Egypt."

"Hurmph." Take bag, start to walk away, Daniel grabbing shoulder.

"Don't leave. Please don't leave, Walter."He thinks I'm leaving him. Ha. Wish I could, almost.

"Will be back. Always back for you. Always."


	8. Brainwashed?

Yada yada I own nothing.

* * *

The house seems so empty and cold with Walter gone. I miss him already, though he has assured me he'll be back. I'm a little ticked at how bossy he's been lately, but, well... he's Walter. I'm just glad he's not dead. I'm still half expecting to wake up in my bed and have this all be a dream. I really hope it isn't. Or that it if is, it lasts a long time.

I should nap. But I can't. What's Walter going to do to Adrian? What if Walter has _already_ done something to him?

If Adrian dies, it's all my fault. That'd be three, no_ four_ lives I've ended. Hollis, Walter, Laurie, and now Adrian....

I shouldn't have let Rorschach die the first time. I shouldn't have given him so much reason for wanting revenge. Though really he should be going after Jon. After all, Jon killed Rorschach. Jon killed my little friend, out in the barren land of snow. How many times did Adrian tell me that, let the mixed comfort lull me to sleep?

That Rorschach had been killed by an entity that was beyond human, and that it HAD to happen. There was no other option. Jon knew that Rorschach had to die, and thusly he had killed him. The future is already set, was already set then and there. Rorschach had to go. It wasn't my fault, there was nothing I could do. It wasn't anyone's fault. We're all just playing roles, our scripts tightly set out, and we CAN'T deviate.

But he's back. Did Jon know about that? Did Adrian predict it, with the same innate skill he uses to know how the economy will dip and dive? I hope so. I hope he's in hiding, deep enough that the monster that is Rorschach, that vile creature, can't find him. I hope that no harm comes to him from that cree-

What the hell am I thinking? Jesus I have a headache. I'm thinking of him like _Laurie_ would think of him. Damn that woman, making me into something that I wasn't. Demanding pleasure, demanding class, always demanding something. I was never good enough for her. Neither was 'God'. Damn that woman was a witch. Always trying to make me into something that I wasn't. Trying to make me love her in a way that I wasn't capable of sustaining.

Damn her right to hell, where sh- Dammit. What the hell is wrong with me! It's my bloody fault that she's dead, how can I think of her like that? I married her, I _tried_ to love her, and she helped me, in so many ways, with so many things. Because of her I got my ass off the couch and started wearing the cowl again. Because of her I was able to live a life worth living, a life where I could try to make a difference.

I make my way to the bathroom, splashing my face with cold water. What's made me into this? I look at my face, it's not a _handsome_ face by any means, but I'm not _ugly_ either. My hair needs work, an-

Oh God. I'm thinking like Adrian Veidt.

I'm thinking like the prissy rich pansy boy who's been wedging himself into my head over the past five years.

I've been brainwashed.

No, that doesn't make any sense. This is paranoid, this is .... like the mask killing thing. But Walter was _right_ about that! Bad comparison, bad comparison.... it's still not possible. Why would Adrian mess with my head? What would it gain him? What's the damned _point?_

Maybe he's just insane. But who could judge that? He's the smartest man in the world? Who could _tell_ if he's gone bonkers?

Maybe someone who's slept with him? Who's been manipulated into being isolated, physically and emotionally, by the so-called smartest man?No, no no no no! This doesn't make any damned sense! I wouldn't have been falling in love with him if he were that abusive, if he were that controlling!

Unless... Stockholm syndrome. Adrian was studying it, it's effects. He _told_ me that he was doing trials, figuring out how far it could go. I thought.... I never imagined that...

Was I just his experiment? Some lab rat?

H-he used me.

He used me to see if he could. And he did. I thought he was my friend, I thought I could _trust_ him...I thought he loved me. I thought that he cared about me, and that he wanted for me to be happy.

He ruined my trust in everyone, made me turn my back on Laurie and Walter, on their memories. He isolated me. He made me dependent, and .... and he seduced me. Walter has every right to be disgusted with me, I'm disgusted with myself. I don't like the man in the mirror right now. He was duped, tricked, lied to. The glass breaks with a satisfying shatter, and I bite my lip when the pain starts to set in.

"Seven years bad luck, Daniel. Foolish."

I turn abruptly. "Walter?"

"No. Easter bunny. Hand okay?"

I look down at the pieces of glass sticking out of my knuckles.

"Um... probably not." I wiggle my fingers and wince. That smarts. "Ow."

"Stupid, Daniel. Don't want pain, don't punch glass."

He's so emotionless. He's got the face on, the black and white. It's always a barrier. I don't know how he's feeling right now, as he takes my hand and removes the glass without touching any of the pieces, pushing them back to the mirror, fixing it. He drops my hand.

"Be more careful."

I hurry after him, heedless of my bleeding, of the fact I need to bandage my hand. "Wait!.... are you mad at me?"

He pauses. "Hurm." He hooks his thumbs under his mask, pulling it up and off as he turns to face me. He hesitates for a long while, his blue eyes staring into my brown ones. He pulls me closer slowly, and the anticipation is deadly. He has us inches apart, and he smells like smoke and static. He whisper's "No," as he closes the gap. "No, I'm not mad."

Our lips connect and I feel pins and needle all over. I feel alive, and scared, and special. I have butterflies in my stomach and electricty in my veins. It feels like an eternity though it ends too soon. "I'm not mad, Daniel. The rest of the world is."


	9. Coffee

I own nothing, everything belongs to Allen Moore.

* * *

"I'm not mad, Daniel. The world is." Daniel always been emotional. Never self destructive though. That my role. Hand still bleeding. Must fix. Don't want to let go. Hurm. Difficult choice. Finally let Daniel go, getting bandages. Return to hallway. Daniel gone. Short search. Drops of blood easily followed. Daniel's bedroom. Sleeping. Tired Daniel. Wrap hand best as possible, removing glass. Does not wake. Sit and watch him sleep. Cute. Move strand of hair from face. Notice puffiness under eyes. Hungover. No more drinking. No more punching glass.

Child to think of, after all. Where is child? Perhaps should check up on.

Easy to find Child's room. Up on 4th floor. Not sure what to think. Not like Daniel's home anymore. Clearly boy's domain. Different. Not as different as owl den. Messy. Not disaster, but lacking Daniel's OCD cleanliness. Cluttered. Newspaper clippings, paraphernalia of heroes. Daniel's "Nite Owl" featured prominently. Not surprising. Daniel considered "Dad". Am with Daniel. Make me "Mom"? Chuckle, careful not to wake boy. Ha. Not mother material. Bad father, too. Never had good examples. Watch child for long time, pondering parentship. Startled by abrupt voice.

"Pervert. Watching a minor sleep. Shame on you."

Boy's lips barely move, eyelids not fluttered. He's good.

".... Apologies. Not pervert. Thinking."

Boy sits up. Stretches. Flexible, strong. Will make good hero.

"Thinkin' 'bout what?"

"Daniel. You." Tense now, but honest. "Veidt."

"Hmm. Busy head you've got, Mr. Kovacs. Real busy like."

"...." Long pause, eying boy carefully. "Name's Walter. Use it."

"Not Rorschach? I thought... huh."

"Rorschach by night, when working. City knows Rorschach, fears and respects him. No one knows Walter."

"Huh....you're coming with us, right? On patrol? As Rorschach? "

Slow smile. Nod. "Yes. Rorschach and Nite Owl....oh. And... your name?"

"Nite Hawk." He grins. "I just stay in Archie though." Smile falls. " I wanna _help_, dammit!"

I frown. "Language."

"Sorry Mister Ko-...Walter."

Nod. Hmmm. Daniel limiting boy's potential. "Will speak with Daniel on this matter. Now sleep."

"Aw, I can't just force myself to shut down.... tell me a story!"

Frown. "Don't know bedtime stories."

"Aw, please? You must know at least one!"

Deeper frown. Wish to put child to sleep. Sigh. "Once upon a time." Pause. Haven't heard this since before mother started taking clients. Remember it as if experiencing it right now though. "There was girl. Goldilocks. Lost in woods, hungry and tired, sca-"

Boy starts laughing.

_FROWN_. "What?"

"Not that kind of story. Thats for little kids. Those ones are lame, and have mixed morals. Tell me about when you and Dad took down the underboss in the sewers!" Boy grins. _Like_ this child.

"Scum though wrong, betting on filth of sewer to save them. Wrong, very wrong. Army of rats gave little warming, evading cloud of tear gas..."

Hours pass. Boy enthused. No sleep. Will be tired later. Simply need to give sugar, then. Daniel due to wake up in fifteen minutes. Stop stories, going downstairs, making coffee. Much sugar. Push mug at Rory.

"Drink."

"I get coffee now? You're awesome, Walter!"

"Don't tell Daniel. Our secret."

Grin bright, too large for boys face. Downs contents of mug quickily, then checks 24 hour clock. "Imma go suit up. See ya later!" He hops downstairs, happy.

Take responsibility of waking Daniel, taking him mug of coffee. Push open door.

"Daniel, up now. Child almost ready."

"mph."

"Daniel. Up."

"Mph."

Pull blankets off him.

"DANIEL. UP."

"Alrigh, alrigh....Jebus..." Sits up. Push coffee at him. He seems touched. "You made coffee? Thank you Walter....that's very considerate." Takes sip and struggles to remain 'touched'. Am aware that my coffee is...interesting. Dark and sweet. Thick.

Hurm. Child enjoyed it, at least.


	10. Guardians

Yada yada I own nothing.

* * *

Drinking Walter's coffee is like drinking mud infused with sugar. I struggle to get it down my throat almost as hard as I try to keep up the smile, thanking him again. At least it's woken me up. I shoo him out of the room, so I can get dressed in the new under-armor. It's like a spandex almost, quite comfortable, adds that extra edge against bullets. Just in case. I stop to look in the mirror. My headache is almost gone, and the hangover isn't so obvious now that I've slept. I look like me, with my drab hair, and shoulder flab. And I'm happy with it. Screw Adrien's pretty-boy opinion. I don't look half bad. I'm so glad I've started working out again. I flex a few times, smiling at the man in the glass.

"Enough vanity, Nite Owl. Child waiting. Duty calls. Suit up." Walter is suddenly in my room again, tossing me my costume. He must have come up through the floor.

"Jesus, Walter! Don't _do_ that! Nearly had a heart attack." I climb into the suit, almost falling in my haste. Walter catches me, and I get hit with a wave of deja vu. That time, the only time, that I fell of heat exhaustion in Archie. I blush as my cheek brushes his chest. "W-Walter?"

He stiffly sets me to my feet, turning his back, putting distance between us. "Rorschach." He corrects. "Yes, Nite Owl?"

He's in his mask, under his second face. God dammit. Oh well. I pull on the goggles, shrugging. "Nothing. Let's get going." Why is he so cold? What did I do? Why did he put up this barrier again? I ponder as we awkwardly descend into the nest. Rory is already in Archie's cockpit, suited up and ready to go. He seems especially enthused, bouncy, even. He must be eager to show off to Wal-.....Rorschach. "Take 'er up, Son."

I sit back, Rorschach next to me. A silence stretches between us for about half the ride, him staring out the window while I quite literally twiddle my thumbs, just waiting. To my surprise he breaks the silence. "Nite Hawk good name. Will make good Hero. Should patrol."

He still isn't looking at me. I blink. "No. No, He's too young, Rorschach. He's not even ten... six months until his birthday, we can discuss it then."

"Age just a number, Nite Owl. Child ready. Knows city needs help. Perfectly capable." He's turned to face the front now, still not looking at me even as I fix him a glare from behind my goggles.

"No." I say it with more venom, and perhaps more harshly than needed, and Walter bristles. The mask is shifting faster, a fight is going to break when Rory's voice brings peace.

"We're here."

Walter looks through the window, confused. The Guardians are already mostly assembled on the rooftop of an old abandoned cellophane factory. The Silhouette and The Nurse are leaning against each other, sharing a cigarette. The Ninja and Hat Man are chatting quietly, comparing methods. Comedian is smoking a cigar off to the side, and Mothman is trying to look like he's got something to do, alone in his corner. Rorschach receives curious and not altogether friendly glances from all, even as I quickly explain that I've found a good Rorschach that will bring honor to the name.

We wait, chatting tensely. It's The Ninja that eventually voices what we're all wondering. "Anyone know where Ozzy is? He's never late like this. He's usually here first."

The Silhouette pouts dourly, her dark purple lipstick accentuating her pout. "I hope pretty boy didn't get whacked."

"Oh." The word comes from Rorschach. He's sifting through his pockets now and I feel a cold pit in my stomach. He pulls out a piece of purple paper and offers it to the group. "Met with Veidt before finding Nite Owl. Was asked to forward this."

_To whom it may concern; _

_Due to matters outside my control, I have found it necessary to attend to my business outlet in Guam. I shall return A.S.A.P., I assure you. Please carry on without me. _

_V._

The paper has water marks and red blotches. Blood and Tears. Oh. God. Silence all around. Rorschach pushes the paper back into his pant pocket, and no one dares breathe.

"Sorry about paper. Damaged in pocket." It's an excuse, and I know it's a lie. The Comedian seems to know as well.

"Bullshit." His voice is gruff, and not all that unlike Blake's. I don't like how this is going. "Bull-fuckin'-shit. Nite Owl, who is this goddamn newbie anywho? NO ONE knows Ozzy, no one would just 'run in to him', no one 'cept you. If anyone was gonna know when Pappa fuckin' purple smurf ain't going to be showin', it's YOU, not some new masked freak."

The ice in my stomach grows as I feel the group murmur their assent. Walter hasn't moved, though his face is swirling. He's not happy.

"Smurfs are blue, Billy."The Nurse pops her gum to punctuate her sentence.

"That's why I specified _purple_, dyke. Don't correct the Comedian. Doesn't anyone else find this a little fuckin' fishy? Does he even HAVE an outlet in Guam?!"

The Silhouette grabs her lover about the waist, frowning with her chin on the white clothed shoulder. "Billy, play nice or be castrated. Though this does smell, Owl. How do we know he ain't been running around and whacked off our leader? After all, that's supposed to be _your_ job."

I blush, though this is hardly the time. "Um... A...Adrien _does_ have an outlet in Guam, he...he took me there..... and uh...." Walter is NOT happy about that 'whack off' comment, though I can't see his face. Verbally, I flounder. We stand, a herd of sheep without our Boarder Collie, turning against each other. Much to my surprise it's Rory that saves my hide. I'm so proud of my son. He's come so far, from the scared child I picked up in a rotting apartment. He's just stuck his head out of Archie, shouting to get our attention.

"I know he ain't been running around whacking nobody. Papa said he had to leave to check up on work before he left last night. He'll be back soon. Please leave Rorschach alone, he's awesome. And Billy...you're a bully!" He then brings his head back into Archimedes. Last night? When he dropped me off, after our trip. I guess he must have mentioned ... maybe this does add up. Maybe Walter didn't kill Adrien. Maybe....

There's a slow disperse of the crowd. Everyone loves Rory, everyone can trust that child. He's a terrible liar, or at least he lets on to be one. Only Comedian hangs back, everyone else going to their general quarter, dealing with their usual line of criminal scum. I start to pull Rorschach to Archie, wanting to avoid altercation. He doesn't budge. I give a few more ineffectual tugs before giving up, walking towards Archie, but staying in ear-shot.

"Listen here, Queerbait. The kid might vouch for you, and that's nice for now, but don't think you're not on my rada-"

Walter's fist makes a brief connection with Comedian's jaw, the Comedian stumbling back, spitting out a few teeth. "Not. Gay."

"Jeshush Chrisht. You're a frucken shycko."

I double back. "Rorschach. Comedian. No inter fighting. Comedian.... Billy.... lay off the sexual insults. Seriously, Linda's going to really castrate you if you keep insulting her girlfriend. And... leave Rorschach the hell alone."

"Or _what_, Owl?"

Rory pipes up again. "I'll bite you!"

"Son, hush! Grown up time."

I ignore the "aww" focusing more on the fact my lover suddenly has Billy by the throat, letting his feet dangle off the edge of the rooftop, speaking in his gravely monotone.

"Bother me, bother Nite Owl, dare to THINK about what you're planning to do to Nite Hawk, and I will kill you." He fakes a drop, and I yell... and he lets Comedian's feet touch solid ground again, spitting beside him...through the mask.

I don't think, just follow Walter back into Archie.

Once we're in the air, I pull Walter to the back, offering him a coke as I help myself to one. "What he's...planning to do to... Rory?"

"Doesn't succeed. Don't worry."

"But..."

"Don't. Worry." He says it the way he said no bacon. He knows I will anyway, but... he told me not to, so it's my own fault.

"Is it...my fault, that whatever almost happens happens?"

"No. Mine. Don't worry. Doesn't happen, so no point in worrying."

"If...it's your fault. Can't you stop it?"

"No."

And that's the end of that discussion, it seems. He won't tell me anything more.

He gets up, going to the cockpit, handing over the bottle of coke to Rory. I don't like that, my son is rather caffeine sensitive... oh well, just one coke won't kill him. I smile a bit as I get close enough to hear snatches of conversation.

"You stay in the middle. Nite Owl and I cover your flanks. Just worry about straight ahead. Will protect you."

"Rorschach! Nite hawk is **not** patrolling with us!"

"Yes he is."


	11. Press

I own nothing, everything belongs to Allen Moore.

* * *

"Yes he is." Nite Hawk patrols with us tonight. Encounter three men who attack us. Am encountering them now. No. Am in Archie now, arguing reality with Daniel. Must pick a present, stick to it. Must not get lost on tides of time. Must not feel sick. Must not think about Comedian. Despicable man. Must not think of Nite Hawk, half out of suit, scared. Must instead focus on now, on Daniel trying to get attention.

"Walter!"

Blink. "Hmm?"

"Walter. You spaced out. Are you alright?"

Shake head, dismiss thoughts. Stick to present. Don't worry. Thing that almost happens doesn't. "Rorschach, Nite Owl. On duty. Proper names... am fine."

Rory looks even more worried than Daniel. "Mr. K...Rorschach, you really oughta sit down or something." This coming from child who can't sit still, swilling soda. Damned alliteration.

"Am fine. Watch where driving. Unanticipated billboard."

"Wha-ohshit!"

Archie swerves. Am already holding Daniel and wall, leaning against turn. "Language, Nite Hawk."

"Wh-why didn't you warn me earlier?!"

"Should watch."

Daniel mute. Worrying. Land in slum. Woman's scream from alleyway. Three men, combined forces mugging/rape/murder. Nite Hawk overeager, jumping into fray. Dispatch of thugs swift, efficient. Teamwork natural. Victim runs off. Thugs tied up, left at corner. Police will pick up later. Flash of light elicits growl.

"Oh no, not the press." Nite Owl groans. Nite Hawk seems delighted. I don't like.

"Who are the two newest members to your group, Nite Owl?!"

"How are you all coping with the sudden disappearance of Adrien Veidt?!"

"Do you have any comments at this time for us?!"

"Go. Home."

"Why are you working with a Rorschach, Nite Owl?!"

"Sir, why did you decide to imitate Rorschach? Will you be following up with his harsh methods?!"

"I. Said. Go. Home."

"Sir, the media has a journalistic duty t-"

Reporters and camera men gone. Home, probably. Can't know for sure.

"Rorschach....was that necessary?"

Ignore Nite Owl. Stupid question.

Spend rest of night looking for trouble. Find fair amount. Nite Hawk proves mettle. Good fighter, uses size as advantage. Will be viscious if cornered. Nite Owl needn't have worried. Knew it.

Two Molochs, half a dozen petty theives, handful would-be rapists. City is large, overrun with vermin. Work until eastern skyline yellow. Watch dawn from Archie, Nite Owl driving. Nite Hawk asleep, left foot twitching.

"Kind of romantic, in a silly way, isn't it, Walter? And...hopeful."

Nite Owl tired. Gets...silly...when tired. Humor him. "Yes. Hope." Ponder. "Wait. Referring to....?"

"The sunrise, of course....."

"Oh. Of course." Simply a star. We're trapped in orbits, no control. No hope of freedom. Unromantic. Opressing. Sad. Don't share thoughts with Daniel.

Arrive home at 6:30. Daniel carries Rorry up to bed, child groggily shedding outer armor before disappearing under covers.

"So...um...just uh...are you _comfortable_ if you're in the basement, Walter?" Out of costumes, name is again okay. Am Walter. Not Rorschach.

"Cot suits me fine."

"Well, alright..." Head to respective beds.

Stay alone for maybe 20 minutes. Restless. Go back up to Daniel. He's sleeping. Pout.

"Daniel."

Sleeps.

"DANIEL."

Still sleeping.

"**DANIEL!_"_**

"I'm up, I'm up!"He's alarmed. Oops. "Are you alright?"

"Can't sleep."

"Oh?... Ah... um...why not?"

Sit on edge of bed. "Cot smells like Veidt. And fire."

"Well the fire is your fault, you know." Avoids mention of Veidt.

"Hurm. Perhaps."

"Also, haven't slept in five years. Perhaps am not capable."

"Oh. Yes, that might be it as well. I don't know if Jon ever slept, Walter. If Laurie were here, she'd know.... Veidt might know too..."

"Doesn't matter. Don't care. Not tired."

"Then why does it matter if you can't sleep?"

"Bored."

Looks nervous now. Allow small smirk to cross face. "Well... I don't know what to do about that, Walter. I ... um... Jesus, you're a bit close, aren't you?"

Am slowly taking over bed. "Entertain me, Daniel."

"W-Walter....r-right now? You.... want...?"

Small chuckle. "Cute, Daniel. Cute. Yes. Now. Want."

"Like....Right now?"

Losing patience. "YES. NOW." Whisk blanket off Daniel, only in boxers. Big Jewish prick happy to see me.

"You're...this is...d-different.... R-remember last time?"

"Of course. Been dwelling on last time for five years."

"M-me too. I just .... ah... let's um..."

"Daniel?"

"Y-Yes?"

"Shut up."

"Okay."

Better this way. Chatter distracting. Peel off own clothes, ignoring Daniel's look at Veidt's borrowed boxers. Tug at Daniel's waist band, urging similar nudity. Am sure door is locked. Triple check mentally. Don't want Rory wandering in. Dismiss such thoughts.

"Take them off. Now."

Almost says something. Doesn't, blushing and removing only article.

"Good."

Push him into mattress, tracing over old marks, hickeys, Veit's. Replace with mine. Like Daniel's low moans, whimpers. Missed his voice. Missed his voice like this.

"W-Walter...." Arching under me. Wants attention. Chuckle more.

"Patience."


	12. Sex

Yada yada I own nothing. Sorry about he hiatus, I had 12 exams and no time to do this, I was studying.

* * *

"Patience." The ginger says. Does he now know what he's doing to me? Oh God, thoughts scattering here.... blood tingling, head rush. His lips are cool and dry and staticy, his fingers leave trails of lighting in their wake. Oh God, Oh God.... and yet he holds back, he _teases_. He _teases_ me. When did he learn this? How does he know? He's touching me in all the right spots, all the places Adrian found and loved. I have to struggle to keep myself from moaning loudly, I don't want to be so easily won over, but he's just so _good_. I reach up, dragging fingernails over his back as I gasp and squirm.

He growls, and the pace shifts. Suddenly, it is as if I'm wrestling a particularly mean-tempered ally cat. He's everywhere, biting, clawing, torturing sensitive spots with his light and airy pain. "G-God... W-Walt-er!"

"What, Daniel? What do you want?" His voice is so smooth, he's being such a ..... a..... tease? No, it's deeper than that. I'll have to think later. Better to just respond. He tends to hit if he doesn't get answers, though you'd think my low moans and whimpers would be answers enough.

"Walter, please... please... now..."

"Please _what_?"

"Oh God, Walter, don't do this... just..." I don't want to say it. I don't want to give in, so soon. I yelp as his teeth find my earlobe. Alright, screw the pride. "Just fuck me! Take me, please, just... please!"

"If you insist."

Oh.

My.

_GOD._

Brain broken. Heat everywhere. Hands, everywhere. So good, so mildly perfectly painful yet not. Don't stop. Don't stop. Oh God _Don't. Stop._

"DON'T STOP!!"

"I won't, Daniel." He chuckles.

"Oh God, More."

"As you wish, Daniel."

He doesn't stop, he goes faster, harder, gives more, it's so... oh.....God.....It's all too much, it's too much to deal with, my brain is on fire, my nerves are screaming, or maybe that's me. I can't tell anymore, I just... can't keep up, I can't breathe, I can't see, I just feel, and I feel too much. Dear God, please

"_**WALTER!"**_

My voice cracks with the emotion and hell knows what else as my seed spills over our stomachs. Everything snaps to normal time again, I can breathe, I feel lightheaded, but I'm okay, I'm not damaged, I'm not burned to the cinder that I felt like but moments ago. It's all I can do to just lay back and pant. I didn't even have to do anything, and I'm exhausted. Best. Sex. Ever. Walter waves his hand, and we're clean. That could come in handy.

"Suppose you liked that, eh love?" He's smirking. That goddamned sexy smirk. I don't even think he finished. Can he finish? Is that possible? Ow, head hurts. Too many thoughts, too fast. I just smile and nod, blinking. Must think of something intelligable to say! Something...sexy, and suave...

"Want some waffles?"Dammit. Not what I was going for.

"Um. What? Waffles?"

"Er... um...sexy waffles. For...after-sex." What the hell am I saying?!

"..........No thank you, Daniel. I think you should just sleep."

"Yes. Don't let me talk. I say stupid things." Real smooth, Dan. Real smooth.

"No stupid. Cute. Daniel too special to be stupid."

I blush. "And Walter's too sexy too be.. um... I really don't know where I'm going with this. You're sexy. And... I'm tired. And... woooaaaa. You're good at sex."

He laughs lightly, playing with my hair, arms around me, laying with me. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome. Any time. Really."

"Now? Tomorrow in front of your little hero group?"

"........Maybe not _any_time." I know he was joking, but still. I'm too tired for more right now.

"You're happy with me, right Daniel? You won't get mad at me?"

"Uhn uh. Can't be mad with my Walter-Scalter." What the hell am I saying?! Fuuu-.... though it's right. I can't get mad right now. Too...sex'd.

"Good. 'Cause you see, I kind of caused Veidt to stop breathing."


	13. Adrian

I own nothing, everything belongs to Allen Moore.

* * *

Daniel peaceful, laying in my arms. Perfect time. Likelihood to react with violence minimal.

"Good. 'Cause you see, I kind of caused Veidt to stop breathing." I hold my breath.

"Oh, tha's nice Wa-......_**YOU WHAT?!**_"

"Ah. Veidt. Dead. Just... so you know. Shall discuss in morning. Goodnight, Daniel." Roll over, close eyes. Not reaction I was hoping for.

"Hey! No! You're going to explain what the hell you just said, Walter. You're going to explain -now-."

"Daniel, sleep."

"NO! You're going to tell me!"

".... No. Make sexual advances; you accept with mixed feelings; you sleep."

"No! No, that's not wha- Ah!"Grab Daniel's 'big Jewish prick', still tender from release moments ago.

"Yes, yes it is."

"Agn, no! Walter, NO!"

"Body says Yes. You say yes, when I..." Rub thumb over tip, making Daniel gasp.

"Ughn...yes...NO! S-stop it!"

Don't stop. Work fingers over length, bend to use tongue, use mouth.

"Oh God, Walter.... d-dammit! St-stop it, tell me what you DID!"

Shower entire area with kisses, spreading his thighs, more access, can take him deeper, down my throat. Can tighten the throat, swallow. Daniel just moaning now, protests mostly dead, struggles weak. Daniel always weak. Daniel a kitten. Or a newborn bird. Not long until burst of heat in my throat, Daniel's shrill cries of my name, his grasp tightening on my hair before falling away, limp.

"You...b-b-bastard..." And he's asleep. Knew it. Sigh. Hell and damnation. What do I do now? How do explain what I've done? I don't want to. I'd rather have it all just unfold. Oh well. Hope Rory not mad at me for killing 'idol'. Hope eventual understanding occurs. Hope Daniel not pissy with me perpetually.

Need to go for walk. Can't be seen. Morning now, people about. Force Blaire Roche form, drowning in one of Daniel's tee-shirts. Must search for something more suitable. Stand on tip-toe to unlock door, stumbling out and into Rory.

"Oof! .......Whoa. Girl. What th-?"

"Rory! Go back to bed! How long were you here for?" My voice comes far to shrill, whiny. Female. But innocent, if cross and startled.

"Um... no. Long enough to hear my dad get his ass kicked." He goes to step into the room. Recall left Daniel naked. Grab boys wrist.

"No! Don't go in there. Go back to bed!"

He gives me a condescending smile. "Don't worry, I know there's a scary man in there, his name is Walter. I'm sorry if he frightened you. But I gotta go check on my dad."

"Rory, I said -no-."

"How do you know my name? Let go of my wrist!"

"I just do! Come play with me!" I tug, insistent. I would shift back, but am only in one of Daniel's tee-shirts. Not decent.

"Alright, alright..." He looks back at Daniel's door lingeringly as I close it. "But you've got to answer me a few questions. Are you alright? Did someone hurt you?"

"I'm _FINE_. Just leave your daddy alone, let's go play in the basement, and talk."

"Fine, but only 'cause you're pretty." He's saying it to humor me, but the face I'm wearing frowns and glares before my hand delivers a not-so-light slap. "Pervert."

"Ow, lady, learn to take a compliment! You hit like your dad!" He is passive as I all but drag him to the basement. I say nothing about his assumption that I am my own daughter. It's a twisted truth, I suppose.

"Why aren't you sleeping? You need your sleep if you're going patrolling again tomorrow." We sit together on the cot.

"I'm not tired. I think the coffee and coke are still in my blood."

"Hurm."

"You're a lot like your dad, but you don't look like him one bit. Who's your momma? How long were you just sitting in my dad's room? Why didn't anyone introduce us?"

"I don't have a momma." It's true enough, for my purposes, and I shrug at his question about time. "I have cooties. Stay away."

"Ew! Girl cooties! Though really, I'm too old for that, I already got my cooties shots. And anyway, everybody's got a momma! Mine are dead, but I had 'em just the same."

"Ehn." Another shrug. Must get the child to sleep, but he seems hyper. Suddenly Rory far too close for comfort.

"You're pretty. What would happen if I kissed you?"

"I'd break your nose."

"Well, that settles that curiosity, doesn't it?" And he edges to the other side of the cot. Good boy. Not an idiot.

"Yes. I'd certainly hope so. Besides, Walter would be very upset with you." It's very true.

"Ehn, I can take 'im. He's tiny."

I laugh. "Really? You think so?"

"Oh of course. I mean, he's short. He's short and wiry. Adrian could probably beat his punk ass down."

FROWN. "Don't talk about Adrian. I -hate- Adrian! He's a big mean jerk! And besides, he's dead, he can't hurt anybody anymore."

Shock registers on Rory's face before the pain and disbelief. "Uhn uh. You're one helluva liar, little girl. Don't talk bad about Mister Veidt. I don't hit women, but I'll tell your daddy on you."

"Walter hates Adrian. A lot. He killed him."

"You're lying."

"No I'm not."

"Why?!"

"Adrian killed Blake. Adrian killed half New York. Adrian killed your mother."


	14. Note

I own nothing, everything belongs to Allen Moore. So sorry for such a long hiatus. I moved and have had no internet! T___T

* * *

This bitch is crazy. Papa didn't kill my mom. The giant squid did. The Alien. I want to suck my thumb. "You're a liar. Liars get in trouble. Your daddy should've raised you not to fib like that.

She glares at me. There is something _wrong _with this girl. "I don't have a daddy anymore than I have a mommy."

But... this is Mr. Water's kid, right? It must be. That... this makes no sense... "I don't like you. You're a mean lying bitch." I catch her wrist when she moves to punch me. "You're violent and mean and think that because you're pretty you can do whatever you want."

She starts laughing, and is abruptly gone, my hand empty. That was weird. Weird and scary. I head over to the cot, pulling dad's warm wool blanket over me. It smells like Veidt and smoke. I try not to cry. I miss papa. I miss my mothers. I hug a pillow and sob into it. That little bitch, it was probably just a dream or something, a really weird hallucination or something, 'cause of all the stress. Like in that horror movie with that girl who's mean and hurts people. If papa were here, he'd be able to save me. I shouldn't have lied to the rest of the crew. They'll hate me for sure. Daddy might hate me too. Oh God this is terrible.

After getting snot on the blanket I can't smell papa anymore. I'm all cried out, but still so jumpy.... maybe I shouldn't have had the coffee and the coke. I'm so... I have to run. I have to get out. I'm so scared... what if what she said was true? What if papa killed... no. No. He's a hero. He's my favorite person ever. I love him. He's the greatest. I'll go find him.

I know which stairs make noise, and how to avoid them. I can't risk waking up daddy, or Walter, or running into the ghost girl again. God, my heart is beating so fast. I just need to get my backpack, and my under armor, just in case. I'll bring my suit, for if I don't get back until late. I could maybe even patrol on my own. Though I hope I'm back before daddy wakes up. I'll leave a note. Yeah, a note.

_Dear daddy. _

_I met a girl and she was weird and she scared me and she said that papa was the one who made the squid kill my mother, and a bunch of other confusing stuff, so I'm gonna go find Adrian, because he's the best and he cares about you and he'll take care of us. He's always taken care of us, ever since mommy died, which was all your fault anyway, so you should be proud of me, and I'll be careful, and yeah. I'm going to be a hero. If I need help, I know where to go. I have friends in high places, so I'll be fine. I **have** to find papa. I have to._

_Rory. _

That should do it. Now he'll know when he wakes up. I've got to run, now, before I lose my nerve. I'm packed, I'm ready.. the door lock is still broken, I don't have to worry that I don't have a key for it. Daddy and Walter should be able to deal with it any. And screw that bitchy girl. She doesn't know anything. Papa Adrian will make everything okay. He'll make things better.

That's what he does. He fixes things. He fixed daddy. He's fixing the world.


	15. Pros and Cons

I own nothing, everything belongs to Allen Moore. So sorry for such a long hiatus. I moved and have had no internet! T___T

* * *

Morning... nice, nice beautiful morning. Where are my glasses.... let me see... hmm. Naked. Oh. Oh God, right. Last was beautiful. His lips, his fingers...everything.... everything was so perfect, I was so happy... and then.. something about Adrian... right...SHIT! I sit upright in killed him. Shit shit shit. I nearly fall in my haste, pulling on clothing. Walter is sleeping soundly at the foot of my bed, in nothing but one of my tee-shirts. He glows a light blue. It is uncanny. I'm as quiet as possible as I unlock my door and exit. I need proper coffee.

Maybe he was joking.

No. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't have tried so hard to make me not ask if he had been joking. This is terrible. Adrian is the modern day Atlas, the entire world rests on his shoulders. As much as I hate to think good of him right now, as much as I think he has manipulated me into depending upon him, and thinking of that I loved him. But did he deserve to die? How am I supposed to know?

I sigh as I get a piece of paper and draw a T-chart. Pros and Cons. Somehow this doesn't seem a fair method.

* * *

**Pros:**

"Saved the world". Ending hunger in third world countries. Revoked the Keene Act; starts the . Great hair. Set new standards in fitness for America. Gave populous a whole new scent. Gave modern science so many gifts, clean fuel for one, genetic hybridization for another. Smartest man in the world. Promoted peace and prosperity. Fixed American economy. Ended the arms race. Ended the oil wars.

**Cons:**

Responsible for the death of several million innocent (?1) people. Responsible for the death of Rorschach (?2) Death of Bubastis his fault too. Short term murder of Jon/Dr. Manhattan. (?3) One count of date rape, to my knowledge. Killed all of his servants, as well. Infection of multiple persons with cancer, isn't that some kind of biological warfare?

* * *

?1: were they really that innocent? It was New York. It was a slummy part of New York. Sure there were children, women, and the like, but it was to stop an inevitable war with Russia that would likely end in nuclear holocaust. So perhaps he is permitted to make that sacrifice.

?2: Rorschach is not dead. So clearly it's not murder in the normal sense. And even so, it was that did it, not Adrian, so maybe it's not his fault, even if he was the catalyst.

?3: Jon wasn't really dead either, so... yeah.

* * *

Well hell, this doesn't tell me much of anything. If anything, it makes Walter out to be the bad guy. What does it matter? No one knows about this, no one will believe me. The point is that Adrian is dead, and the world is going to burn. I wonder where he put the body. I wonder if there _is_ a body. God forbid that Walter got rid of him as Jon had gotten rid of Walter. Adrian would be back and more powerful than ever in a matter of minutes. And the last thing I want on my hands is a war between 'Gods' of that strength. I guess I just have to talk to him... damn it, my soul feels like a broken bottle right now. Jagged and useless and lost. I just wish this could all be made right, like in those dreams I used to have where everything was fine.

I toss the paper out, tearing it into several pieces before doing so. I probably should take greater precautions, but it's not like Adrian's watching me anymore. I don't know how I feel. Angry maybe? At Walter? Yes... Well... no. I can't be angry at him. He.... I need him. If I'm angry at him, he might leave me. I don't know if I can deal with that right now. So I guess it just comes down to who I need more. Adrian or Walter. If I need Walter more, than I can do without Adrian and be able to accept that this was what he feels had to be done. If I needed Adrian, then I must pursue justice and have Walter brought up on murder, and be held accountable for his actions.

Adrian put me back together. He put in a few of his own pieces, but he kept me from alcoholism, he kept me sane. Walter gave me... why does my mind blank? This is frustrating, this is scary... I... the day in the owl ship, the... I...

This is too hard. I can't do this kind of decision making. It's not _fair._ It's not fair at all. I can't just flip a coin for something like this. But I can't make up my own damn mind, either.

Maybe I should ask Rory. Yeah... it's nearly noon, he should be getting up soon anyway, he won't mind me waking him up a bit early. Yes.... just ask him what he thinks of Walter, if he would mind.... never seeing Adrian again? I... I don't know how I'll do this, but Rory is part of my family, he deserves some say in who I welcome into our home....

...That's... odd. Where the hell is he? He.... maybe the basement. Maybe he went to Archimedes, he's done that before when upset, or plagued by nightmares. I take the stairs double time, not caring if I wake up Walter at this point. The blanket is disturbed, but that could have been done last night, before my guest decided to sleep with me... the door is still broken... maybe he...oh! A note, under the pillow...let me see....oh God no.

"WALTER!"


	16. Walter

I own nothing, everything belongs to Allen Moore. Sorry about taking so long, I really lost interest with this story for a while and now I'm gonna try forcing my interest back on it for a bit.

* * *

Remotely hear Daniel. Feel foolish for earlier encounter with 'Rory'. So foolish. Am only doing what knew had to be done, but that feels like excuses. Excuse necessary? It's hard, being Godly. Force self into a visible plane, calm despite Daniel's screeching.

"Rory's run away!"

"I know. We will find him. Moments later than optimal."

"What does that _MEAN_!"

Sigh. Being like this, being undead, being so remote when Walter too should feel Daniel's frantic panic. Must try to explain. "It means knowing too much and telling will only upset you."

"He wrote about a little girl! Maybe he was kidnapped or something!"

Daniel so irrational. Another sigh. "Me."

A pause in the ranting. Confusion. Understanding. "Oh. Is that... like... something you're into?"

Deadpan stare. Long pause. Daniel speaks again.

"That was a very stupid question."

Nodding. "We should discuss last night."

He blushes.

"Um...yes. I guess... er... oh. Oh God. You... you told me about... um..You mean about Veidt."

Frowning. "Not about that. About the other."

Another long pause. "We should start searching for Rory." The blush is deeper now, darker.

Shake head. "No. The sex. What it means to you. What... I mean to you. And all... this."

"This is not the time, Rorschach!" Daniel struggles, and is pinned against the wall less easily than in the Owl-Ship so very long ago.

I push my lips to his. "Walter. Just...Walter."


End file.
